NARUHINA: EPILOGUE TO THE CONFSSION Parts 48
by kublakhan27
Summary: To be continued and revised 10 17 10


IV.

They made me wonder where nature

hid its famed silken-wing freeway

from adhesive residential larva

My retinal royalty

was bustled to a squint

to register the flashpan flowering

of fashion sense

by the girls with whom I shared my youth

Cracked fabrics unveiled new anatomies

like the moulting mantises of the biologist

I worked alongside

I grew up inside a zipper

just like nature's caterpillar

No winged secretions of mine would hedge

secrecy's whistle-blowing shrubbery

My eyes were my wings

and on their own were no one's mystery

No mystery

like the discipline

that swam down his forehead and neck

and broadcasted off his torso

like proud chrome ripples on an earless

television screen

No mystery

like his favourite colour

too swirled up in the the frantic extrovert's

paraphernalia to boast facthood

among an indifferent village

that saw and rationalized a blur

To the heiress of the near-entire

village's superintention of sight

No mystery that pink

is his favourite colour

V.

Maybe the bravery to talk to him

would meet with smile's consent

to laugh at him

Laughter lends it lingo to nicknames

and maybe I'm well-read enough

to nickname him

And were it all so I'd call him

Anahota

Why must these royal eyes

so close to true conclusions

save his cells for sleep-seeing

In live motion let me see them chipping

only soft enough to chip never crack

the pillars of devotion compassion

unconditional love

Anahota

The Heart Chakra

Colours of association

pink and green

VI.

My quivering lips

were poised to thank God

at the sight of his sparing your vital points

with his ceremonial pins

Then I read the name

off the lips of the robed one

photo-opping his extreme acupuncture

for a village under prophetic sky

bleeding from the sort of wound

deemed myth against the famed

auras of its surveillance

A village awarded

the realization of a royal family's

genetic heirloom

Perfect eyesight everywhere

The blemish of a blind spot

everywhere

VII.

Shrunken but in view

I saw the playground

My wrist gravitated to the harness

of my father's hand

as he shook his head and said

ignore him

That boy is dangerous for miles

Whispers of agreement

climbed the vocals of the crowd

and dove from their mouths in horror

when the hollow pop of a broken lock

rhymed with my arm severing

the walk of protocol to run to you

Like a hang-glider with a collapsed wing

my good arm convinced enough wind

to accept a limp for a sprint

Sandpaper chants kept pace

with my ears

Get her

The one from the royal clan

with the weird eyes

that think it makes them

better than us

I bet she's snobby like them too

Let's teach her a lesson

This time

he didn't need to drop jesterhood

for monotone threats to leave me alone

His smile close by

close as under my eyes

was jest enough to entertain me

stunt double of my own family

This time

I would bring the monotone to him

VIII.

What is the great divide

Is it the mapped borders

of ourselves and neighbours

adamant on paper

invisible between the backs

of infant tantrum engines

respective pairs of arms crossed

like duelling airlocks

Is it the instant prairie

of resigned demolition

traversed by me

trip by scabbing trip

to split the line of fire

traced helplessly by his sedation

to the coming march of the robed man

Or was it me

shunning loud pleas on one end

and hushed threats on the other

to achieve a goal of both

Connect people where division lives

Almost theatrical

was the pace of the robed man

saving me

just like the smile of the boy

pre-trapped

who never knew I noticed

I wouldn't have to scream

in accordance with the dream

I pulled him through in years

following his playground exploits

There was time for every syllable

imprisoned to be freed

The pace of the robed man saved my dream

even in his clearing of the path

A sooner leap from the fence of fear

could have put me in the path of his pins

landing my impaled body on the meant target

like a Shakespearean pincushion

No such apocalypse was ever needed

for me to divide his body

from the unforgiving world

with my own

Unzip my waiting butterfly wings

I would have told him

and bring connection to division

And look me in the eyes

Our stomachs never met

but it looked like I widened your eyes

as my own thinned to closure

The royal stunt double overshot her mark


End file.
